The Amazing Illegal Wonder Potion
by Private Maladict
Summary: Sirius Black is back from the dead, and trying to win the man he loves... by any means necessary! An outrageous parody of all things trashy the fandom, featuring gay!Sirius, clueless!Harry, slut!Ginny and Don't-Even-Ask!Snape.
1. An Unexpected Visit

**Author's notes: **This fic is intended as a joke – a parody of all things trashy in the Harry Potter fandom. As such, no part of this fic should be taken seriously under any circumstances!

You've been warned.

_**The Amazing Illegal Wonder Potion**_

**1. An unexpected visit**

On the day Harry Potter turned sixteen, he received the greatest present anyone could have given him. In fact it was still night, and Harry was lying awake, feeling sorry for himself (which lately had become his favourite pastime), when he heard the rumble of an engine.

It sounded like a cross between a helicopter and a lawnmower, and it was coming from above. At first he thought that it was The Flying Shitbox, but straightaway decided that this was unlikely. The last time he had seen Mr Weasley's Ford Anglia, it had been mating with the Whomping Willow on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and as far as Harry knew, it was still there (in the Forest, not getting it on with the Willow - though possibly that, too).

Unless, of course, the relationship had not worked out. Harry thought that was quite likely - the first time the two had met, the Willow had nearly beaten the Shitbox to a pulp.

Of course, that was no worse than relationship between Ron and Hermione. Any couple that clashed that much simply _had_ to end up together, or fictional writing would not be what it was.

However, Harry soon saw that it was not the Ford Anglia running away from its jealous lover. It was, in fact, a motorcycle. It approached over the rooftops of Privet Drive, and Harry's heart began to beat faster as it drew nearer. A memory stirred in his mind, a dream from long ago - what could this mean?

He did not have long to wonder. Within seconds, the motorbike had reached Number Four, Privet Drive and skidded to an abrupt halt in mid-air, right outside Harry's window.

The rider wore no helmet, but his face was obscured by a pair of riding goggles. He had long black hair, which billowed around his head in a manner described by ladies worldwide as "_Soooo _sexy!" Harry didn't know this, of course, and if he did he wouldn't have understood it. He stared at the rider in amazement, wondering what was going on. After some moments had passed, he decided it was up to him to break the silence. He asked, "Who are you?"

The rider didn't reply. Instead he slowly peeled off the goggles, pushing his hair out of his face at the same time (really, _really _sexy). Harry stared at him for a moment, and then fainted.

Sirius Black shook his head, muttering, "James never fainted," and climbed through the window. After a moment's thought, he dragged the motorbike through after him (turning off the engine first). The noise should have woken up the Dursleys, but luckily, (as it would have been very inconvenient at that particular point in time), it didn't.

Sirius lifted Harry and placed him gently onto his bed, noticing as he often did how much Harry looked like his father. "You'll have to do," said Sirius and grinned wickedly in the darkness (it was a very sexy grin, if anyone had seen it).


	2. Ulterior Motives

**2. Ulterior Motives**

Harry came round after just a few minutes, and when he did, he almost fainted again at the sight of his godfather. His words came out in gasps as he tried to express what was running through his head.

"You... you... how... I thought...you died!"

"Calm down, Harry, I didn't really die! Well, I sort of did, but not completely. I came back. I'm back."

And Harry threw his arms around him and started to cry.

Sirius couldn't help feeling touched. It was a comfort to know that somebody still cared about him. However, he reminded himself not to let it soften him up. The image of dark, brooding despair, which he had maintained about himself since his escape from Azkaban, had made him so popular with the ladies that he often had to cast female-repelling charms to stop them from trampling him to death. Sirius was (naturally) gay, but it was still flattering to have legions of women wanting to shag him. And the "brooding despair" thing worked just as well on boys, if they swung in the right direction...

Now there, Sirius perceived, he had a bit of a problem.

When James and Lily got married, Sirius had spent most of the wedding day crying in the bathroom. And it was _not_ because he was sentimental. Eventually, Remus had brought him a full bottle of Firewhiskey, which they polished off right there in the cubicle. After that (and a few other things), Sirius decided that things weren't so bad after all, and even managed to feel happy for James and Lily. He never _quite_ forgave Lily for stealing his boyfriend, but what could you do? There were other fish in the sea, or, as it were, wolves in the forest.

When he escaped from Azkaban, however, he found that the attraction was somewhat lessened. The tired, greying Remus Lupin was no match for his former self. Even the werewolf thing didn't seem quite as sexy, when a living, breathing image of James had graced the world with his presence. Harry might not have been quite the same man his father was... but he was close enough.

Unfortunately, he was also straighter than McGonnagal's underwear drawer.

Sirius wasn't sure how to deal with this. He was certain that under the current circumstances, trying anything would be considered some form of abuse. But he didn't know if it was possible to _make_ someone become gay, and if Harry remained straight, Sirius was sure he would one day be forced to spend another wedding day crying in the bathroom.

After patting Harry on the back for several minutes in what he hoped was a fatherly manner, Sirius decided that he would have to bide his time. Perhaps if he did some research, a solution to his dilemma would present itself. In the meantime, he could work on his facial expressions in the mirror. Brooding Despair was always a winner, but Wounded Soldier was also a good one, as were Haunted Conscience and, of course, Hidden Wells of Pain. The chicks really loved that one.

**Author's notes:**

"I didn't really die! Well, I sort of did, but not completely. I came back." – What do you mean, _how_? Who cares?

"Sirius was (naturally) gay" - 1. Because this wouldn't be a proper fanfic if he wasn't. 2. Because any man who has long dark hair, a once-handsome face (which we _know_ is still handsome, despite the author's hints that this is otherwise) and dark, haunted eyes full of brooding despair, not to mention a flying motorbike, is simply bound to be gay. On the rare occasions that he isn't, he is either married or some kind of quasi-martial-arts monk, who has taken a vow of celibacy.


	3. A Werewolf Thing

**3. Unwanted guests**

Harry returned to Grimmauld Place on his broomstick, following Sirius's motorbike. His trunk had been bewitched to follow them, which worked rather well until they began to slow down, at which point it slammed into Harry's back and nearly knocked him off his broom. Groaning in pain, and careful now to slow down gently, he descended towards the dark London street.

When they entered the dimly lit hallway of Sirius's house they were greeted by Remus Lupin, who threw himself at Sirius and attempted to strangle him. It took Harry a few moments to realise that this was, in fact, a passionate embrace and not attempted murder. That still didn't explain why Lupin was trying to bite Sirius's face off, but as it didn't seem to be bothering his godfather, Harry decided not to intervene. It was probably a werewolf thing.

He left them to it and went into the kitchen. He suddenly realised that it was growing light outside and he still hadn't slept. He had had too many nights like this lately, and was starting to look like a proper, angst-ridden teen. He didn't even need to dye his hair black.

However, it was hard to feel sorry for himself when his godfather had just seemingly returned from the dead. Harry made a mental note to find something to get depressed about later, but for the moment he decided to give in to temptation and allow himself to be happy. Luckily, this state of being didn't last long1, since the first person he saw when he entered the kitchen was Draco Malfoy.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Harry shouted.

"What does it look like, Potter?" replied Malfoy, sneering. He was stirring sugar into a cup of black coffee. "I've come for a holiday with my mum's cousin. Not a crime, is it?"

Harry turned to the kitchen's only other occupant, Severus Snape. "What's going on?" he yelled, forgetting for a moment that he hated Snape and wasn't talking to him.

Snape, however, had not forgotten anything, and replied with a sneer: "None of your business, Potter. Why don't you go upstairs and _save_ something? Bit of a hobby of yours, isn't it?"

A few hours ago, the taunt might have worked. But now that he knew Sirius was alive, it had little effect on Harry. In fact, he was suddenly feeling reckless, as if his father had awakened in his blood, and he said, with a sneer to match Snape's best, "Go fuck yourself, _Snivellus_."

Behind him, Sirius, who had just entered the kitchen, was forced to make a hasty retreat. A cold shower suddenly seemed like a very good idea.

---

"Okay, the way I understand it," said Ron as Harry, Hermione and he sat in his and Harry's bedroom a little while later, "Malfoy's mum started feeling _very _insecure after his dad got chucked into prison. Reckon she didn't feel safe without him to protect her, and suddenly she decided she didn't want to be caught on the wrong side of the tracks, see. So she went to Dumbledore and he's agreed to give her and Malfoy protection."

"Yeah, but what are they doing _here_? Surely the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is no place for a Death Eater's wife and son, even if they have chickened out of Voldemort's little army. I mean, how do we know we can trust them? Scratch that, any idiot should realise that we _can't_ trust them!"

"Well, where else would they go?" said Hermione, who had been quiet up until this point. "You remember what Sirius said about his brother, you can't just hand in your resignation form when you want to stop being a Death Eater. Voldemort has no mercy for deserters."

"So what would happen to Malfoy and his mum?"

"They'd get tortured and probably killed."

"And we're protecting them _why?_"

Hermione sighed. There was just no talking Ron and Harry. They simply refused to understand the importance of cooperation between all wizards.

They also failed to understand that Draco Malfoy was one helluva good shag. Although, on second thoughts, maybe they were better off not knowing that.

**Author's notes:**

1) "Harry made a mental note to find something to get depressed about later, but for the moment he decided to give in to temptation and allow himself to be happy. Luckily, this state of being didn't last long." - Because it is very uncool to be cheerful when you're sixteen. It is a universal fact that all sixteen-year-olds are unappreciated, mistreated and misunderstood, regardless of race, gender, social status or sexual orientation.


	4. Nanny Ogg's Seekret Resupee

**4. Nanny Ogg's Seekret Resupee**

Sirius began his research broadly, searching the house for any books on love spells. As might have been expected, the search did not go very well. In fact, the closest thing he could find could most accurately be described as a book of post-love spells. It had detailed, full-colour illustrations. Sirius's hand shook a little as he hastily replaced the book on its shelf. He just barely resisted the urge to look down his trousers for reassurance.

Having exhausted the possibilities his house had to offer, Sirius began to consider his other options. The obvious place to search for books was the Hogwarts library, but there was simply no way for an adult to get in there without being noticed. As Sirius's name had still not been cleared, this was out of the question.

The other option was the public wizarding library in Diagon Alley. It was not as well stocked as Hogwarts, but it would be much easier to get into undetected. It was still a terrible risk though, and Sirius was sceptical about his chances of finding what he needed in there.

And then there was Knockturn Alley.

Sirius knew, deep down inside, that this offered his best chance of finding the spell he needed. However, he was still reluctant to enter that pit of depravity. He shuddered at the memory of his childhood shopping trips with his mother. Knockturn Alley was the one place he had never dared to enter as a Marauder.

However, he had to admit that the magic he needed would probably involve the Dark Arts - and Knockturn Alley was the most likely place for him to find it.

That night, Sirius pulled on a dark, hooded cloak, and wrapped a scarf around the lower half of his face. He knew that he looked like he had something to hide, but this would hardly raise an eyebrow where he was going. Some people might even find it attractive. In fact, if he got the Haunted Eyes look just right, he would be positively irresistible. He looked in the mirror until he was satisfied, and took some Floo powder from the pouch at his waist.

"Knockturn Alley!" he said, and was whisked away into the green flames.

He emerged in what at first appeared to be a pub, though it was even dingier than The Leaky Cauldron. Smoke billowed around the soot-encrusted ceiling. The floor was covered in mouldy rushes, which had probably been there since the Dark Ages. Sounds of belching, fighting and drunken singing were mingled with shrill female giggling.

Sirius knew where he was. The Naked Virgin was a legend among the boys at Hogwarts; it was the reason why many were so eager to enter Knockturn Alley. It was also the main reason they were all strictly forbidden to do so. The Dark Arts stuff was dangerous, sure, but to the mind of a mother nothing is quite as terrible as the thought of her little boy visiting a place like The Naked Virgin. And to the little boy, of course, nothing is quite as exciting.

Taking a quick look at what the infamous Virgin had to offer, Sirius thought that any boy who did manage to get in would be in for a great disappointment. You would get a much better show by sneaking into the girls' changing rooms at school. That, of course, had been James's idea: Sirius had spent the time groping James under the Invisibility Cloak.

He had not planned on visiting the brothel, and was about to leave when he realised that this might be the very place where he could find what he needed. So, somewhat reluctantly, he sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. The beer smelled like something that had already passed through somebody's kidneys, but it allowed Sirius to sit in a corner and carefully observe the brothel's other patrons without looking out of place. He soon located the most likely candidate for helping him out: a large woman with even larger breasts (_engorgement charm_, thought Sirius) who laughed like a horse and appeared to be in charge of the other women around her. Sirius quickly pretended to drink some of the beer, then disappeared it with his wand when he was sure no one was looking. He stood up and approached the woman.

"Oohh, here's a handsome one," roared the woman when she noticed him. "And what is such a handsome prince doing in a place like this? Surely the ladies must be falling over themselves for those puppy-dog eyes?"

Sirius was momentarily taken aback. _Puppy-dog eyes?_ That didn't sound right... he would need to practice more often. Oh well, she seemed to mean it as a compliment...

"What would you like, my dear?" said the woman. "Rita here gives blow-jobs for ten galleons, or you can get the lot for twenty! Or perhaps you prefer someone a bit younger?"

Sirius was distracted again by the witch-whore the woman had indicated. She looked vaguely familiar. Sirius shook his head. _Concentrate on the job at hand. You don't even _like_ women!_

"Er, no, erm actually, I was wondering if I could have a word with you? In private?"

"Oohh, he goes for the older ones! But surely you don't want this old biddy, dear? I been in this business too long, dear!"

"Er... and a fine figure of a woman you are! Er... I'll pay extra?"

That seemed to settle the matter. "Don't get into trouble, girls!" called the woman over her shoulder as she led Sirius up the rickety stairs at the back of the pub.

"My name is Mama Atilla. Don't ask me why. Someone suggested it and it sort of stuck." She opened a door at the top of the stairs and led him into a small, musty-smelling room.

"Er... Miss... er... Atilla..."

"That's _Mama_ Atilla, dear."

"Yeah, that's right. Um... I'm not too sure how to explain this..."

"It's okay, dear. You don't have to explain anything. Honestly, I've never seen one so nervous at your age!" And she pulled the door closed behind her.

It did take a bit of explaining, and by the time Sirius managed to get the message across, he had yet another mental scar to add to his collection. But his efforts were not wasted, and he returned to Grimmauld place clutching a book entitled _Nanny Ogg's Seekret Resupee_.

Mama Atilla claimed that this was the most potent love potion ever invented, and that it would work on _anybody_. "It's simple, dear," she told him. "They drink the potion, just a couple of sips will do, and the first person they see will be the person they fall in love with. Classic, really."

One glance at the recipe told Sirius that his main problem would be brewing this potion without anybody becoming suspicious. He looked at the ingredients list and groaned.

"Goats," he muttered. "Why does Dark Magic always have to involve goats?"

He read further. "Okay, eye of newt and toe of frog I can handle... Let's see, what else... Boomslang skin, okay... Okay... Mandrake root... Fine... Fine... This could be a bit expensive... Fine... What the hell is Ecstasy? I'll have to research that... and... oh bugger!"

There are some conventions which _never_ die. Some of them become illegal, which would be fine if you were only interested in brewing _legal_ potions. Some of the more controversial ingredients often have less offensive alternatives, and may old potions have been re-invented to modern, acceptable recipes.

Unfortunately, love potions have been illegal for a very long time, so their inventors never really bothered with trying to brew them using legal ingredients. And as far as Sirius knew, wizard-kind had yet to come up with an adequate alternative to virgin's blood.

This was going to be tricky.

In fact, getting hold of virgin's blood is not as difficult as some other things. Anyone who has ever tried to wrestle a goat into a fireplace in the middle of the night will be able to tell you that. Scratched and bruised by the goat's horns and hoofs, Sirius finally solved the problem by stunning the animal and dragging it in. Virgin's blood suddenly seemed simple by comparison.

As it happened, Sirius didn't even have to make any particular effort to obtain the ingredient. He was in the kitchen when Hermione, who had been chopping vegetables for Mrs Weasley, suddenly swore in a most un-virgin like manner and dropped the knife. Blood was oozing out of a cut on her thumb.

"Dammit..." she muttered. "Underage wizardry, my arse. Never got the hang of wandless cooking."

"Here, take this," said Sirius, passing her a tea towel. "I'll just find my wand..."

"Thanks," she replied, holding the tea towel to the bleeding cut. Sirius quickly healed her, and took the towel.

"I'll go chuck this in the wash," he said, and sprinted up to the room where Buckbeak the hippogriff was enjoying a hearty meal of dead rats.

Buckbeak's eating habits made most of the other inhabitants of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place avoid this room. Harry, Ron and Hermione came up here occasionally, but as long as Sirius kept the cauldron with the potion in the cupboard, he should be pretty safe.

He set some wards on the cupboard, so that only he would be able to open it. If anybody asked, he could just say that he had never been able to get that cupboard open. That way, if anybody _did_ manage to open it, he could pretend that he didn't know what the potion was.

Grinning to himself, he began adding ingredients to the cauldron. The tea towel had been stored in a jar for the time being: virgin's blood was the last ingredient to go in, when the potion was ready to be taken.

"You're _mine_, James Potter," said Sirius, humming under his breath.

He paused, catching himself.

"Harry, I mean," he corrected. "_Harry_ Potter."

Then he grinned again.

"Whatever."

**Author's notes:** Nanny Ogg is a character from Terry Pratchett's Discworld series. As her only role in this story is as the inventor of the amazing illegal wonder potion, I do not consider this fic to be a crossover.

For anyone who is unfamiliar with the Discworld series, Nanny Ogg is an old witch and the matriarch of a very large extended family. She is quite an expert in all things... er... _reproductive_, shall we say. And of course, like most inhabitants of Discworld, she considers spelling to be optional.


	5. Lousy Shag

**5. Lousy Shag**

Draco Malfoy was in a very bad mood.

At the start of his stay at Grimmauld Place, he had simply been bored; most of the interesting Dark Arts stuff had been cleared out of the house, and there was nothing left to occupy him. He was angry with his mother for being so spineless. Thanks to her, he was now a deserter, forced to join Potter and his loyal crew of arse-lickers. They were all so bloody lame!

Well, except for Granger. That Mudblood sure was a demon in the sack.

However, although Draco had gained a new respect for the girl, he was beginning to realise that she really wasn't what he wanted. Once the initial shock of hearing the biggest geek in the school scream "Fuck me, Slytherin!" had worn off, Draco had started to get bored. Hot as this girl had turned out to be, Draco was not attracted to her. Not one tiny bit.

Hermione, unfortunately, didn't seem to be capable of taking a hint. Every time Draco had tried to tell her that he really didn't want to do this anymore, she would smile a wicked little smile and say "Oohh, naughty boy! You don't want to do your homework? I'll have to put you on detention!" and conjure up some cords to bind him to the bed. After that, no amount of pleading would force her to stop. Eventually, Draco had managed to corner her and disarm her before she could perform her "detention" routine. He had then told her, in no uncertain terms, that he was _not _interested, she was _not _his girlfriend, and if she tried to put him on "detention" again, he would use the Imperius curse to force her to run the length of Diagon Alley stark naked.

Five minutes after this exchange was over, purple, pus-filled zits had appeared on Draco's forehead, spelling out the words "Lousy shag". Draco couldn't help feeling hurt; he had thought she was enjoying herself! He cornered her again, asking what he'd done wrong, to which she replied, "I'd be more worried about your embarrassing disease, if I were you."

"What embarrassing disease?" he asked incredulously.

"The one you're going to get if you don't bugger off _right now!_"

"You can't use magic in the holidays, Granger!"

"Take a good look in the mirror, Draco," she replied sweetly. "This house is hidden. I can do as much magic as I want and the Ministry will be none the wiser. Now, what would you prefer? Syphilis or crabs?"

Draco made a hasty retreat.

He decided to concentrate on getting rid of the zits. Unfortunately, none of his expensive, high-class skincare potions seemed to have the slightest effect. You had to admire the Mudblood's curses.

Unable to think of any other alternative, Draco went to search for Professor Snape.

The potions master took one look at Draco's face and grimaced.

"That's a nasty curse, and if normal skincare potions don't work, you'll just have to wait for it to wear off."

"And how long will that take?" asked Draco anxiously.

"We-ell... Let's just say you won't be shagging anybody for the next few months, Malfoy. Except maybe..."

Snape seemed to catch himself. He shook his head and glared at Draco.

"Whom _were_ you shagging, Malfoy?"

"No one," muttered Draco and then cursed himself, because he realised he was going red.

Snape considered this for a moment. "And are you really a lousy shag?"

"Of course not!" screamed Draco indignantly. "Me, Draco Malfoy, a lousy shag? Are you out of your mind? I'm the best shag in the whole damn school!"

"_Really_."

And Snape smiled.

That smile, Draco knew, would visit him again in his nightmares. Until now he had rather admired Severus Snape: his treatment of Potter and his stupid friends was noting short of commendable. And he had always shown blatant favouritism towards Draco.

Now Draco knew why. Potions rapidly dropped down a few notches on his list of favourite subjects.

_My life is so difficult_ he thought. _Everybody mistreats me._ Then he added as an afterthought, _and nobody understands me_.


	6. Stir My Cauldron

**6. Stir My Cauldron**

"Oh, he thinks he's so good, well, I'll show him, lousy Slytherin, thinks he can just dump me, oohh, the bastard!"

Ginny Weasley listened to Hermione's tirade, sighing inwardly. She had put up with night after night of graphic descriptions of the other girl's escapades, never raising any objections, never saying, "Hermione, I really don't want to hear this!"

Ginny wondered how somebody so intelligent could be so blind.

"Look, Hermione, maybe you're better off without him?" she said when Hermione paused for breath. "I mean okay, he is the greatest shag in the school, but he's also a slimy git, and a Slytherin to boot! _And_ he's not a natural blonde!"

Hermione looked at Ginny in surprise. "Really? How do you know that?"

"I, er, that is, he dropped his bag when he was moving in, and his shampoo fell out. It was Madame Barbara's Fortifying Shampoo, with Bleaching Potion. It's what Seamus uses to get the highlights in his hair."

"Er, how do you know what _Seamus_ uses?"

"Ummm... I saw it in their bathroom when I was going out with Dean. It had to be Seamus's, because I know Harry, Ron, Neville and Dean don't bleach their hair!"

"Riiiiight... Okay, and how do you know Draco's the best shag in the school?"

For a moment Ginny entertained the idea of telling her the truth, but decided that "Because I've shagged every boy in the school" was something she should keep to herself. It wasn't strictly true, either: she hadn't shagged anyone below her year, and she hadn't shagged Harry or Ron. And Ron didn't count. So Ginny just said, "Because you told me, stupid!" and left it at that.

There were some things Hermione was better off not knowing.

"Hmm... well, maybe you're right. Plenty of other men out there!"

_And women_, thought Ginny.

"Actually," continued Hermione, "d'you know who I think is really sexy?"

_Oh, here we go,_ thought Ginny, though she allowed herself a tiny sliver of hope.

"Professor Snape!"

For a moment Ginny thought she hadn't heard right.

"_What?_" she gasped.

"Oh, I've always loved his classes! I think he'd a very disturbed man underneath..."

"I'm sure he is! Come on, Hermione, _Snape_? I mean... if you're going to go for someone that old, surely you can do better than that? Sirius is a very disturbed man underneath, and at least he's nice!"

"Yeah, but there's something about Sevvy... Oohh, he can come and stir my cauldron, anytime!"

Ginny suppressed the urge to retch. There was just no accounting for taste.


	7. Bugger This

**7. Bugger This**

Sirius stirred the cauldron. _This potion had better be worth it_, he thought. Collecting goat's urine on the full moon is not as easy as it sounds: goats are surprisingly reluctant to pee into a bucket. And Ecstasy! Sirius had to admire Nanny Ogg's ingenuity in discovering this ingredient - it had taken Sirius several days to figure out what it actually was, and then a few more days to work out how to obtain it.

In the end, actually getting hold of the stuff had proved ridiculously easy: it had only taken him about five minutes of inquiries in a Muggle nightclub.

Now the potion was nearly finished. All he had to do was take a sample, add the virgin's blood, and force his target to drink it.

It would not do to use it on Harry straight away, of course. If Sirius had made a mistake when preparing the potion, things could go horribly wrong. He would need to test it on somebody else first.

His meditations were interrupted by a knock on the door. He quickly closed the cupboard, and went to open it.

"There you are!" said Remus as he came in. "I've been looking all over for you. Why was this door locked?"

"Umm..."

"And where did that goat come from?"

"Um, ah, I don't know! It's amazing what turns up in this house! But that's why the door's locked, cause this goat had some weird powers and I don't want it getting out."

"Weird powers? Like what?" asked Remus curiously, as the goat began to chew on his robes. "Looks like a pretty ordinary goat to me."

"We-ell, for one thing it can fly. Only it doesn't do it all the time. And it can turn doorknobs, don't ask me how, but it can, so I have to keep the door locked."

"Really? I think I'd like to study it. This is truly fascinating!"

"Umm, Remus, look, I don't think that's such a good idea..."

"Why not? It's not dangerous is it?"

"No, but... I mean yes... Oh bugger this! _Obliviate!_"

"Haha, hi Sirius, I was just looking for you! Isn't that cute, you've got a goat up here to keep Buckbeak company. Wanna shag? Not you!" (The last bit was addressed to the goat, which had moved on to chewing Remus's already threadbare trousers.)

"Uh, look I'm kinda busy right now..."

Remus's smile disappeared and was replaced by a pout. "You always say you're too busy."

Sirius groaned. He really didn't want to do this now. But Remus seemed to have decided that it was time to talk this over, and Sirius had no way out.

"Look, Remus..."

"Oh no, I know what's going on. Yeah, you've never been the same since you got out of Azkaban. You're always too busy, or you've got a headache, or you're washing your hair..."

"I..."

"Don't "I" me! You know, I don't think you ever really wanted me; it was just because James wasn't available anymore! And now you think I'm too old and I have too much grey hair, and _who cares_ about my feelings..."

Sirius couldn't help feeling guilty. After all, Remus had been quite a good shag. He would have to break it off soon, he knew. But with Remus standing there looking at him with those gorgeous blue eyes, looking so lost and forlorn, Sirius simply couldn't bring himself to hurt him.

The potion could wait one more day.

"Come on, Moony. I'll make it up to you."

_I can always dump him tomorrow_.


	8. Dancing Queen

**8. Dancing Queen**

Draco picked at his breakfast, feeling miserable. Molly Weasley was away on some stupid do-gooder business, so Draco's mother had done the cooking. And superior though his mother was to Mrs Weasley in every other way, she really was a lousy cook.

Although Draco had to admit, it must take a certain kind of talent to burn a bowl of cereal.

He looked up from his burnt cereal when he heard voices in the hallway.

"...Yeah, I told Snape to fuck himself. So what? He can't do anything, term hasn't started yet."

"Still, Harry, you shouldn't have said that, you know he'll just make your life miserable once we are back at school..."

"I really don't see what he can do to me that he hasn't already..."

_I can suggest a few things_, thought Draco. Then he shuddered, because he remembered that _he_ was the one in danger of having those things done to him.

The conversation broke off when Harry and Hermione entered the kitchen and saw Draco.

"Nice hat, Malfoy," said Hermione, grinning nastily. "Hope they let you wear it to lessons..."

Draco gritted his teeth and said nothing. Instead he turned to Harry, who was looking at him with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What are you looking at, Potter? Never seen a beanie before?"

Harry looked at Hermione, who was still grinning horribly. "What's this all about?"

"Oh, let's just say Draco's got a nasty bit of acne."

"_Draco?_" said Harry incredulously. "Since when was it Draco'?"

_He doesn't know,_ Draco realised. _He doesn't get what's going on._

But Harry was quicker on the uptake than Draco thought, because suddenly he lunged, and before Draco could react, pulled off the beanie.

For a moment there was silence. Then, instead of laughing, which was what Draco expected him to do, Harry turned to stare at Hermione.

"Don't look at me like that, Harry."

"Hermione, that looks remarkably like the curse you gave to Marietta. _What have you been doing?_"

Draco was beginning to enjoy this. Hermione was rolling her eyes at Harry, and Harry was looking scandalised. _Potter's a virgin!_ _He can't believe Granger would shag somebody!_

But in a moment he realised that he was wrong.

"I can't believe you!" Harry was yelling. "You... you-know-what... with _him?_"

"Who would you rather I do it with? Go on, who?"

_Oh here we go,_ thought Draco, sniggering. _Now it's gonna turn out that he's been lusting after her..._

"I don't know! I don't care! But that slimy git? I mean, that is totally disgusting!"

"Hey, wait a minute!" shouted Draco, unable to hold it in. "Are you calling me ugly, Potter?"

"Well, _Malfoy_, I can understand why Hermione is calling you a lousy shag. What I don't get is why she had to shag you to find that out!"

Draco was really furious now. "Me, a lousy shag? Like you've ever even had a shag, Potter!"

"That's beside the point!"

To Draco's satisfaction, he saw that Harry was going red. Draco grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close, so their noses were almost touching.

"I'll show you who's a lousy shag, Potter," he hissed.

And with sudden clarity, Draco realised exactly what it was that he wanted.

"Come on, Potter... I dare you to prove me a lousy shag."

Harry once again looked puzzled. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

Draco groaned. This boy was so innocent it wasn't even funny.

"Hey, break it up, you two!"

Harry, Draco and Hermione (who had been watching the boys argue with an incredulous grin on her face) all turned to stare at Sirius, who was putting bowls on the table. None of them had noticed him come in.

"I'll explain later, Potter," hissed Draco quietly, so that Hermione wouldn't hear. He gave them both a sneer for good measure, and sat down to finish his breakfast.

What happened next, Draco would never be able to explain. He had just taken a few spoonfuls of his cereal, when Snape entered the kitchen, saying, "I've found a potion that might help you, Draco..."

And suddenly, the dark, gloomy room was full of light - pink and gold and blue and purple, all swirling and flashing. Glitter was falling from the ceiling.

Draco realised that he really, really wanted to dance.

He jumped up. Raising his skirts (because of course he was wearing a skirt, no, a ball gown - a pink one - with sequins on the bodice and a tiara in his hair), he began to twirl around the dance hall, wondering only briefly why he was the only one doing so. _Such bores_, he thought. _Well, I'll show them how it's done._

But something wasn't quite right. Draco frowned, trying to put his finger on it. Of course! There was no music. And you can't dance without music, can you?

Harry, Sirius, Hermione and Snape had backed away from the table. Ron, Ginny and Lupin had all come down for breakfast, and now they were all standing against the walls, watching Draco prance and twirl around the kitchen.

Draco opened his mouth and began to sing.

"_Friday night and the lights are low _

_Looking out for a place to go..."_

"Harry. Harry," moaned Ron. "Do you have some omnioculars? I. Have. Got. To. Record. This."

Harry just stared.

"_And when you get the chance... _

_You are the Dancing Queen!!! _

_Young and sweet, only seventeen!" _

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the dancing stopped. Draco stood in the middle of the kitchen, breathing hard. He realised everyone was staring at him. He turned on Hermione.

"All right, Granger, I know you did this, I know it was you! What the hell was that???"

Hermione had backed into the wall. "I swear it wasn't me! I don't know what happened! Draco, I..."

And he was off again, only this time he jumped up on the kitchen table. He looked up at the ceiling, screwed up his face in an expression of constipated agony, and...

"_At first I was afraid, I was petrified _

_Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side..."_

Sirius sighed. Clearly, the potion still needed some work.


	9. Show Me Your Firebolt

**9. Show Me Your Firebolt**

Mama Atilla listened attentively as Sirius described what had happened.

"Do you have any idea what I might've done wrong?" he asked her when she'd stopped laughing.

"We-ell..." she replied, smothering a fresh burst of giggles. "Let me put it this way, dear. Are you sure your virgin's blood was, erm, genuine?"

"Of course I'm sure, I got it from a virgin! Or... well, I thought she... Oh bugger!"

His memory flicked back to the argument he had witnessed that morning. He had been so busy trying to slip the potion into Malfoy's bowl without anyone noticing, that he had not paid any attention to what it had been about. But now he remembered all too clearly the words "Lousy shag" stamped across Malfoy's forehead in zits.

He slapped his forehead in frustration. "I'm such an idiot!"

"Never mind, dear. Virgins are hard to come by in this day and age. You don't have to make the potion from scratch: just take another cupful and add a drop of real virgin's blood, and it should work. You'll have your boy, don't you worry about it!"

-----

Draco had never been so angry in all his life. It had taken him a full hour to get away from Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys, who would say his name every time the spell lifted so that he was forced to dance and sing again and again and again. It would be a different song each time. Through the haze of rage and humiliation, Draco still wondered how he could manage such perfect renditions when in his normal state he didn't even know the words to these songs.

Not all the words, anyway.

Well, okay, maybe he did know most of the songs - all of them, really - but he sure as hell didn't know all the dance routines! Not that well...

Okay, so he'd practiced in front of the mirror, but that didn't mean he should be able to do them in front of an audience, did it?

Draco briefly wondered if a lilac ball gown would suit him better than the pink.

Then he glanced at his reflection in the mirror and almost punched a fist through it in frustration. "gahs ysuoL" glared at him out of the glass, the zits mocking him with their pus.

Draco needed an outlet. His thoughts strayed to Harry.

Draco did not find it at all embarrassing that he found Harry attractive. Shagging Harry Potter would be the ultimate conquest. It would prove once and for all that he, Draco Malfoy, was the lord of shag, the best damn lay in the school. After all, if even the innocent, incorruptible Harry Potter had succumbed to his wiles...

Then let anyone try calling him a lousy shag.

Harry was sweeping the floor in the drawing room, singing "Dancing Queen" under his breath. The tedious chore was greatly improved by the memory of Draco's performance. Harry wondered what curse Hermione had hit him with (and of course, it had to be Hermione, who else would come up with such a brilliant curse?)

Although, Harry had to admit, Ginny's cursing ability was now almost as great as Hermione's. Her Bat-Bogey hex was spectacular. And oh, the way those brown eyes flashed beneath that fiery hair when she was angry...

Harry realised he was getting sweaty. Sweeping the floor really was heavy work.

But why would Ginny be cursing Malfoy?

In Harry's mind, the words "Lousy shag" flashed on Draco's forehead.

"Ginny wouldn't do that," he said aloud to reassure himself. It was hard enough to believe that Hermione would, but Harry could almost live with that (if only it hadn't been Malfoy). Ginny, on the other hand...

Unless, of course, she'd done it to avenge a friend?

Now Harry smiled. Of course, that's what must've happened: Malfoy had hurt Hermione (probably forced himself on her, the slimy git), and Ginny, indignant on her friend's behalf, had cursed him. The zits had to be Hermione's idea, but "Dancing Queen" must have been Ginny's.

Harry thought of the way she tossed her long red hair when she was frustrated with something - and of the way she handled her wand when she was doing magic...

_It really is hot in here. Maybe I should take my shirt off. _No one would come in here: and he'd get the job done faster if he wasn't sweating so much.

He was so busy thinking about Ginny, that he didn't even notice Draco until the latter drawled, "Nice abs, Potter."

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. He dropped the broom and whirled around to face Draco.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he snarled, a little more aggressively than he normally would have, even to Draco.

Draco smiled a slow, wicked smile. "I wanna see your Firebolt, Potter."

"What? So you can sabotage it?"

Suddenly Draco was standing in front of him, his nose inches away from Harry's. "Oh I'll sabotage it, all right..."

Harry began to back away. This was getting a little too strange. "I'm warning you, Malfoy," he said in what was meant to be a threatening voice, but was actually quite a bit higher than usual.

"What are you gonna do to me, Potter?" sneered Draco. "Sweep me to death?"

"No," said Harry in a flash of inspiration. "I'll call you Dra..."

Draco pushed him violently into the drawing room wall. "_Don't you dare, Potter!!!_" he hissed.

He was pressing up against Harry now, pinning his wrists to the wall. But he leaned his face in closer still, so their noses touched. "Kiss me, Potter."

Harry stared at him in horror. "I'd rather kiss a Dementor!"

Draco loosened his grip, but didn't back away. "It'd be a waste, Potter. You wouldn't make a very good lawyer." He leaned closer again. "Come on. You know you want me."

And he kissed Harry on the lips.

Harry tried to push him away, but Draco's grip was like a binding hex. In desperation, Harry jerked his head violently away from Draco's open mouth and screamed "Draco!!!"

In a flash, Draco had released Harry and rushed over to the broom, which was lying on the floor. He picked it up and held it like a microphone. He brushed the hair from his eyes, wiggled his hips and...

"_Just take those old records off the shelf _

_I'll sit and listen to them by myself _

_Today's music ain't got the same soul _

_I like that old time Rock'n'Roll..." _

Harry didn't stay to watch this performance. Without even bothering to pick up his shirt, he turned and bolted for the stairs.


	10. A Sordid Affair

**10. A Sordid Affair**

Ginny was bored. She wanted school to start so that she could find some new people to shag. At the moment, the only people in the house whom she hadn't shagged yet were Ron, Hermione and Harry (she was not sick like Hermione, and did not consider anyone over the age of twenty to be shaggable).

Ginny sighed. Harry was a possibility, of course, but he probably didn't even know what a shag _was_, much less how to do it. And Hermione appeared, for the moment, to be out of her reach.

The Snape thing really was sick. Ginny shuddered at the thought of seeing the Potions master naked. Sirius might be all right, but he was still way too old, and besides, he was obviously gay. So was Snape for that matter, so Hermione was at least not in any danger of getting what she wanted.

Ginny was sick of males. After her extensive research into the possibilities they had to offer, she had come to the conclusion that girls were prettier, nicer and generally better smelling. And Hermione was intelligent to boot... Oh, if only she would see the world Ginny's way!

Ginny went down to the cellar to find some rats for Buckbeak. The house was silent apart from the creaking of the floorboards beneath her feet. It muffled human sounds, hid away the twisted relationships that went on within it.

Ginny began drawing lines in her head. Hermione had the hots for Snape (eurgh). Now Snape, Ginny was almost certain, was lusting after Draco. And Draco, though it was probably more out of pride than anything else, still wanted to conquer Hermione. It was a genuine love triangle, sick and bizarre as it was.

And then there was Ginny herself, a loose end. Briefly, she wondered whether anyone was after _her_, but dismissed the thought. Nobody had ever wanted her - she had learned that to get what she wanted, she needed to go after it herself.

She picked up her sack of dead rats and climbed the stairs to Buckbeak's room. However, when she got there, she was surprised to find that the door was locked. Puzzled, she said, "_Alohomora_," and the door swung open.

The room was empty except for Buckbeak and, for some reason, a small shaggy goat. Ginny wasn't really surprised to see it - in a house which had once belonged to Dark wizards, there was bound to be at least one goat somewhere. Perhaps Sirius had found this one and decided to introduce it to Buckbeak.

She was about to leave when she noticed the smell. It was quite a nice smell, which was what made it stand out; you did not expect pleasant aromas in a room which housed a goat and a hippogriff.

She looked around the room for the source of this fragrance. There did not appear to be anything which could have produced it. She was about to leave once again, telling herself she'd imagined it, when she noticed that steam was coming out from the crack beneath the cupboard door.

The cupboard also turned out to be locked, and it did not respond to "_Alohomora_". Ginny was just racking her brains for other unlocking spells, when she heard footsteps on the stairs. She sprang away from the cupboard at the same moment that the goat let out a startled bleat and rushed straight at her.

Quidditch reflexes saved her from being skewered on the goat's horns, but a pointy little hoof caught her below the knee. With a yowl of pain, Ginny toppled over, just as Sirius rushed into the room.

"Bad goat! Bad goat! Ginny, are you all right? _Get away_, you stupid animal!"

He helped her to her feet and healed the cut on her leg, though not before a substantial amount of blood had trickled down onto the mouldy carpet. Sirius tried not to smile in triumph - the goat had done exactly what he had wanted.

"Sorry about that," he said. "That goat is a bit wild. I don't know where else to keep it, though."

"That's okay. I was just feeding Buckbeak. I might just... go have dinner now."

She made a hasty exit.

_A bit wild?_ No, that didn't sit right at all - the goat had been chewing peacefully on the curtains right until the moment Sirius came up the stairs. And there was something hidden in that cupboard, Ginny was sure of it. Sirius was up to something.

When she was out of earshot of Buckbeak's room, she murmured "_Silencio,_" pointing her wand at the floor. She repeated the spell, pointing at her own feet. Then, she crept back towards the now-closed door, pulling an Extendable Ear out of her pocket.

She did not have to wait long. After just a few seconds, she heard Sirius command "Open!" This was followed by a creak, which could only be the cupboard door. Ginny thought fast. What she needed was for Sirius to leave the room, leaving the cupboard open.

Well, that would be easy enough, but it also had to be plausible - Sirius needed to leave the room without suspecting Ginny. And he had to be gone long enough for her to see what was in that cupboard.

Ginny's plan did not involve any stroke of brilliance. She was even a little annoyed at herself for not being able to come up with anything more interesting than hiding behind a tapestry at the end of the hallway and sending a fire spell at the door of Buckbeak's room.

As soon as the flames caught, she sent another spell at the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Almost as an afterthought, she also sent one into the dark hallway on the bottom floor. With any luck, it would hit Mrs Black's portrait.

It only took seconds.

Suddenly, there was a yell from inside Buckbeak's room, and Sirius was running out through the burning door. He put out the fire with a gush of water from his wand, only to see that the stairs were burning, too. At that moment, there was a terrible screech from downstairs - it appeared that Ginny's third spell had hit its target.

She didn't wait any longer. As Sirius rushed down the stairs, Ginny jumped out from behind the tapestry and ran on cat-like feet into the room.

The cupboard was open, and fragrant steam was billowing out of it. On closer investigation, the source of the steam turned out to be a bubbling cauldron full of thick, lilac-coloured potion.

Ginny didn't hesitate. Conjuring a flask out of thin air, she scooped out some of the potion and hid it in her robes.

As she crept back out of the room, Ginny rubbed her hands in anticipation. Life at Grimmauld Place no longer seemed so tedious. Sirius was doing something dodgy. Ginny had every hope that her investigations would reveal a juicy, sordid affair.


	11. Private Tuition

**11. Private Tuition**

"Molly told me to give you this," said Sirius, passing a covered tray to Snape. "She's concerned that ickle Sevvie is working in the dungeons and not getting enough to eat. Isn't that sweet?" he sneered.

Snape sneered right back. "Molly's concerned that ickle Siri might be feeling a bit useless, and keeping him occupied as a gofer. _Isn't that sweet?_"

Sirius scowled, but didn't say anything. With any luck, he'd get his own back soon enough. He left the dungeon quickly, but did not go far. The cellars were on the floor above, and Lucius the goat (or Lucy for short), was waiting there, munching peacefully on a bit of old carpet.

"Well, Lucy," said Sirus, "it's time for your date."

---

After Black had gone, Severus had grudgingly set aside his cauldron and uncovered the tray. Busy as he was, he could not say no to Mrs Weasley's cooking. The woman really had a gift.

He was just tucking into the shepherd's pie when a small goat tottered down the dungeon stairs. Ignoring Severus completely, it wandered over to his Moonshine apparatus and began chewing on one of the tubes.

"Whoa, get away from that!" screeched Severus, rushing over to shoo the goat away. The animal let out a disgruntled bleat and moved away.

"Get out of here, you dumb animal! Honestly, there just had to be a bloody goat in here somewhere, didn't there? Bloody Dark wizards!"

Try as he might, he could not get the goat to go back up the dungeon stairs. In the end, it found some old newspapers in the corner and began eating them. Severus had to be content with this - at least the stupid animal wasn't eating his precious potions ingredients, or his even more precious Moonshine apparatus.

_And there's no telling what would happen if it got into my pot-drying oven_, thought Severus with a shudder.)

After finishing off his meal, he returned to his work, but was soon interrupted when Black returned for the empty tray.

"Such _wonderful_ service!" said Severus. "Why, if your name ever gets cleared, you could get a job as a waiter!"

Black opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the goat, which nudged him gently and started chewing his shirttail. Black stared at the goat, and then at Severus, and then at the goat again.

"Oh yeah, while you're doing such a _fantastic_ job," sneered Severus, "kindly get this animal out of here. I am using some very unstable ingredients and brewing some _very_ complicated potions, and I really don't want it ruining them."

"What complicated potions would those be? Your moonshine tastes like goat's piss!"

"What an interesting insight. Well, I understand why you keep this animal around then. Go and have a drink, why don't you? You're interrupting my work!"

Sirius left, the goat trailing after him.

---

Hermione smoothed down her hair as she walked down the dungeon stairs. Her heart trembled in anticipation. Would the Potions Master succumb to her wiles?

She met Sirius going the other way, an empty tray in his hand. There was a goat following him. He was muttering under his breath: "...didn't work _again_! What did I do wrong this time? Surely she's..."

He broke off as he noticed Hermione. "What are you doing here?" he asked dumbly.

"Oh, I'm just going to see Professor Snape. I want to ask him about N.E.W.T. Potions exams."

Sirius forgot his own troubles. "Hermione, you're on _holidays_! And your N.E.W.T.'s are _two years_ away!"

"Yes, well, no harm in getting ahead, is there?"

Sirius stalked off, muttering and shaking his head. Hermione entered the dungeon.

---

Severus carefully took the tray out of the oven and began packing the dried buds into small plastic bags. "Sweet Mary Jane," he said quietly. "You're all I've got left to live for."

"I could give you something to live for, Professor," said a seductive voice behind him.

Severus whirled around. "What did you... Granger! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if, perhaps, you'd help me with my Potions homework?"

"Potions homework? It's summer, Granger! You don't have any Potions homework!"

"Well, I'm sure you can give me some... _Severus._ A bit of... _private tuition_, perhaps?"

Shocked at the girl's rudeness, Severus was just about to tell her off, when he heard the sound of cheering.

Startled, he looked behind him and realised that he was standing on a low stage. Beyond its edge, he could just discern a small crowd of onlookers through a haze of tobacco smoke. In the centre of the stage was a shiny vertical pole.

_Of course_, he thought. _I forgot for a moment. _

He was supposed to dance, of course. Yes - he could hear the music now. He was supposed to dance - and sing.

Hermione watched in horrified fascination as Snape began to dance. There was a vertical drainpipe running through the centre of the room, and he grabbed onto this for balance.

"_I believe in miracles _

_(Do ya, do ya, do ya, do ya) _

_Where ya from? _

_You sexy thing..."_

Then he began unbuttoning his robes.


	12. The Missing Ingredient

**12. The Missing Ingredient**

Ginny flipped through book after book, trying to discover a potion, which contained Boomslang Skin, Mandrake Root, Magic Mushrooms, goat's urine and what appeared to be a Muggle drug known as Ecstasy (it had taken her hours to figure out what that last ingredient was). She had found no perfect match, but she was beginning to form her suspicions. Her most useful clue, surprisingly enough, had come from the Muggle magazine, where she had finally found out what Ecstasy was.

"_The primary effect of Ecstasy is a powerful sense of well-being, and an illusion of having a deep, spiritual connection with everybody around you."_

After this promising start, the magazine article went on to describe all the undesirable effects of Ecstasy, ending with a warning to all parents never to let their children out of their sight, because the moment they do, the children will run straight to the nearest drug-dealer and gorge themselves on the little pills.

Ginny wondered briefly why anyone would go to so much trouble when all you needed for a sense of well-being was a good old-fashioned Cheering Charm.

At any rate, the "illusion of having a deep, spiritual connection with everybody around you" suggested that the fragrant brew she had discovered in Sirius's cupboard was a love potion. However, it was clearly not complete: after only a brief search through her books, Ginny realised that the one ingredient, which all love potions had in common, was missing from the flask of potion she'd swiped.

In fact, it was this essential ingredient, which was largely responsible for love potions now being illegal. After all, there was really no ethical way of obtaining virgin's blood.

"Now, where would Sirius be getting virgin's blood from?" she said aloud to herself.

And then she remembered: a goat chewing peacefully on the curtains... a goat rushing at her with its sharp little hoofs and horns.

Ginny was still rolling around on the floor laughing, when a pale and sick-looking Hermione walked into the room. She took one look at Ginny and snarled, "_What the hell is so funny?_"

Ginny took a few deep breaths and wiped a tear from her eye. "Oh... nothing," she said. "Just remembering Draco's rendition of YMCA'. What's up with you?"

"Er..." said Hermione, somewhat calmer now, "Nothing. Sorry. Just saw something a bit..."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing! You know what? I think Fred and George are pretty cute! I wonder what it's be like to do it with twins?"

Ginny had to suppress a scream. "Ugh, Hermione, okay, that's enough! Snape was gross enough, but when it's my brothers, _I don't want to know_, okay? What happened to stirring Snape's cauldron, anyway?"

For a moment Hermione looked as if she would vomit, but she quickly regained control of herself. "Oh, I changed my mind about him. I'm over him."

"How come?"

"Believe me," replied Hermione darkly, "You don't want to know."


	13. Ginny Makes a Deal

**13. Ginny makes a deal**

"_Alohomora,_" said Sirius.

"Hello, Sirius," said Ginny, who was sitting on Buckbeak's bed and flipping through the pages of _Nanny Ogg's Seekret Resupee._

Sirius started so badly, he had to grab the doorframe to steady himself. Then he reached for his wand.

"Hey - wait!" shouted Ginny. "Before you Obliviate me, you should know that I know something you'd _really _like to know!"

Sirius tightened his grip on the wand. "What?" he asked sharply.

"Well..." said Ginny and paused. "I can tell you who is the only virgin in this house."

Sirius smiled grimly. "Nice try, Ginny. But there are only four females in this house. Disturbing though this is, I already know that you and Hermione aren't virgins. Narcissa had quite a reputation at school, there's no way she's a virgin. And as for your mum... Well, she's given birth to seven kids, that says it all, really."

"Ah, Sirius, but who says it has to be a _female_ virgin?"

There was a very dramatic pause as there always is when something utterly obvious, which nevertheless nobody has thought of, is revealed.

Sirius, however, still had his doubts. "Ginny, are you absolutely sure about this?" he asked desperately.

"Well no, not absolutely, not until we try it out. But I looked through a lot of books. It has to be a human virgin, they're pretty clear on that. But I never found any book that said it had to be a female. I think everyone just assumes it has to be female, cause of course it was always girls that were used in the Dark Ages. That's patriarchy for you."

"I... I never even considered that," said Sirius weakly. Then his eyes lit up with an eager light. "So? Who is it?"

"Uh-uh, not so fast. We're going to make a deal."

---

Lucius the Horny Goat was feeling distinctly less horny, and more terrified, than he had when he had first arrived in this strange house. Back then, all that was required of him was to piss into a bucket, and after that he was left alone to chew whatever he wanted. It had been quite a pleasant existence.

Now, however, things had taken a turn for the worse.

Twice now, he had been taken down to the dungeon.

On the first occasion, the man with the greasy hair had mostly ignored him.

The second time, however, things had gone differently.

It had started out innocently enough: Lucius had retreated into a corner, where he remembered finding some tasty old newspapers, and the greasy-haired man had set about his meal. All was going well until some time afterwards, when the man looked over at Lucius, and suddenly went very still.

"Aren't you a pretty fellow," he said. Lucius didn't understand what this meant, but animal instinct told him that something was amiss. He began to back away, but the wall was behind him. The greasy-haired man approached slowly. "Here, goat. Good goat..."

Lucius didn't wait to find out what this meant. Instead he charged, stabbing the man's shins with his horns. The man was not seriously hurt, but a moment of pain was all the time that Lucius needed to run past him and up the dungeon stairs, bleating in terror. The man was close behind, shouting, "Wait, goat! Wait for me, beautiful!"

Lucius didn't even notice running past the dark-haired man who had taken him to this house, and a red-haired girl. But when the prey and the hunter had passed, the man and the girl turned to each other and cheered.

---

Hermione was having a dilemma. After witnessing Professor Snape's "I Believe in Miracles" striptease, she had not only stopped having a crush on him, but had also begun to doubt whether she would be able to continue studying Potions. The mere mention of Snape's name was now enough to send her into convulsions, and the sight of him had already made her vomit twice. It was no wonder the man was bitter - anyone with plumbing like _that_ (Hermione retched) would be bound to hate the world and everyone in it.

But Hermione didn't want to drop Potions. How could she? It was such an important and fascinating subject!

So painful was her inner battle, that Hermione decided she could not stand to live like this, and opened her Potions textbook to Chapter 13, which was entitled "Poisons". (She had been reading the book in her spare time from reading her Transfiguration textbook, Arithmancy notes, "The Complete Account of the Ministry of Magic", "Hogwarts, A History" and "War and Peace". Well, you had to have some light reading).

Hermione was just contemplating which was the most complex potion with which she could kill herself, when Ginny came into the room. Hermione quickly closed the testbook.

"Hey Hermione, I brought hot chocolate. You've been looking a bit down lately."

"Firewhisky would've been better, but thanks."

She took the steaming cup from Ginny, and began to drink.

In fact, the hot chocolate was remarkably good, and it really did make her feel better. She could feel the warmth of it spreading through to her toes, and on its heels was a wonderful sense of contentment and well-being. "Wow!" she exclaimed, looking up at Ginny. "This is really good! What did you put in it?"

Ginny sat down next to her, brushing her beautiful fiery curls out of her face. "It's a secret," she said, and smiled her sweet little smile with its perfect little white teeth and her beautiful lips.

_She is such a wonderful friend_, thought Hermione. _Why didn't I ever see it before?_

"Ginny..." she murmured, suddenly blushing. "Ginny, I..."

"It's okay," said Ginny, drawing her close. "You don't need to say anything."

Needless to say, what followed were several hours of hot, steamy, lesbian action. But I won't dwell on the details - anyone who is interested in that sort of thing can just as easily draw the picture for themselves.

Let's just say there were strawberries involved. And champagne. Oh yeah, and a bubble bath.

And chocolate, of course. _Lots_ of chocolate.


	14. It's Destiny

**14. It's destiny (just ask the slashers)**

Draco stared in the mirror. He had rubbed his forehead raw, but the zits hadn't even begun to fade. It was looking as if he'd be facing the school year in a beanie.

"_Damn you, Granger!_" he yelled, and punched the mirror so hard that it cracked. Then he deliberately took some deep breaths, and slowly counted to ten.

"Okay," he said aloud to his now splintered reflection. "Things are not so bad. At least the dancing thing is finally wearing off."

This had been a tremendous relief. That morning, when the Weasel had yelled out his name, Draco had only half-heartedly hummed a few lines of "Oops, I did it again", and had not danced at all.

What was even better, it appeared that Snape had been temporarily hit with the same affliction, and for the time being everyone in the house was occupying him or herself with forcing _him_ to perform Broadway classics at every mention of his name.

Draco knew now that it would wear off in a few days, but for the time being, at least, Snape was the target of everyone's ridicule, and Draco had an easy defence against the Potion Master's advances.

Needless to say, this was quite a relief.

But there was still the problem of the zits. Draco knew that he had only one chance to prove to the world, and to himself, that he was not a lousy shag. He had to conquer Harry Potter. In fact, The Boy Who Lived was becoming more attractive by the minute. After seeing him with his shirt off, Draco knew that this was somebody he had to have. And he would need to make his move soon.

"You are the best shag in the school," he told his reflection. "You can do this, Draco Malfoy. Potter, you're mine."

With that, he pulled on his beanie, and strode out of the bathroom. He was going to meet his destiny - hat on.

---

Sirius paced around the kitchen. Everything was finally ready. Ginny had already poured her share of the potion into a cup of hot chocolate and disappeared upstairs. Sirius briefly wondered whom the chocolate was for. When he had opened his mouth to ask, she had silenced him with "I won't ask if you don't."

They had tested the potion on Snape and it had certainly worked, but Sirius was still worried. The problem was that he couldn't be sure if using the blood of the person you were planning to enchant would not have any adverse effects on the potion. It was just his luck that the only virgin in the house happened to be Harry!

Well, there was nothing for it, now. There was only one way to find out whether the potion would work.

Harry came to the kitchen in search of a snack. Sirius had known he would - James could never go for more than half an hour without food. It was one of the cruel injustices of the world that he was able to keep such a trim figure despite eating as much junk food as Crabbe and Goyle combined.

(Sirius, of course, only noted this injustice from a distance. He himself had never been much of a dieter either, and yet still had the body of a male underwear model, even now with his forties fast approaching.)

He was ready for Harry's appearance. "Hi, Harry," he said. "If you want a snack, I just made some noodles."

"Noodles? Great! I'm starving!"

He sat down and began to eat (though perhaps "devour" is a more appropriate word) the noodles, which Sirius had so carefully prepared. For the time being, he was totally absorbed with his meal.

Sirius had added a generous helping of the potion to Harry's snack. He didn't want any more mishaps.

All Harry had to do now was look up.

_He must fall in love with the first person he sees._

Sirius sat across the table, and waited apprehensively.

The kitchen door burst open so hard, that it bounced back off the wall. Had the person who opened it been slower, he would have suffered a nasty bruise. However, Draco was already striding across the room. He planted himself next to Harry, and hauled him up by his shirt. Face to face with his nemesis, he hissed, "You will not escape me this time, Potter. You _will_ be mine."

Sirius had taken mere moments to realise what was happening, but by then it was already too late.

**Author's notes:** Will Harry and Draco stay together (as is their destiny)? Will Hermione be happy with Ginny?

And most importantly, will Sirius hang himself from grief?

Find out in the stunning conclusion to "The Amazing Illegal Wonder Potion"!


	15. Moony's Reward

**15. Moony's Reward**

Remus was exhausted. His latest mission for the Order had not gone well - he had just barely managed to avoid sexually harassed by Rita Skeeter outside a certain house of ill repute in Knockturn Alley.

Remus shuddered at the memory. _Next time they want someone to stake out _The Naked Virgin_, they can send a _straight_ man._

Though come to think of it, there weren't many of them around these days. The Wizarding world seemed to have a rather disproportionate number of homosexuals.

At any rate, all Remus wanted now was a solid meal and a blow job. But with Narcissa Malfoy doing the cooking, and Sirius in one of his moods, neither was very likely.

In fact, Sirius seemed to be in a worse state than ever. He had locked himself up in Buckbeak's room and was refusing to speak to anybody. When Remus checked his private stash, he discovered that three bottles of Firewhisky had disappeared.

He sighed. There was nothing for it but to go to bed, and hope that old Padfoot would be in a better mood tomorrow.

Remus trudged slowly up the creaking stairs, wondering vaguely if they'd been so charred the last time he'd been there.

He barely even noticed Sirius's goat, as it ran past him at breakneck speed.

Remus _did_ notice Snape, who shoved him out of the way and screamed, "You're mine, sexy!"

For a horrible moment Remus thought Snape was talking to him, and then made the even more horrible realisation that Snape was talking to the goat.

Remus suppressed a shudder and hurried on his way.

He passed Hermione and Ginny's room. From behind the closed door, he heard squeals and giggles.

_The girls are having a pillow-fight,_ he thought.

He passed Draco Malfoy's room next, and from there he also heard squeals and giggles, though the voices were somewhat deeper.

Remus decided not to think too deeply about what was going on there.

He paused briefly outside Buckbeak's room, but from that closed, charred door, he heard nothing but silence.

In his own room at last, he closed the door and slowly began to undress.

"Remus," said a voice behind him.

Sirius was sitting on the bed, a glass of pink, fragrant potion in his hand. He was smiling, but his eyes seemed troubled.

"Sirius! Didn't see you there... Are you all right?"

"Yes... I suppose." Sirius paused, his expression melancholy. He took a deep breath. "Moony, have I been bad to you?"

"Er... well, not bad as such..." Remus began, then reconsidered. "Well... actually, you've been terrible!" he burst out. "You're never there for me, you never want to be with me anymore, you don't pay attention to me... Actually, I don't really think you care at all. You don't love me anymore, do you?"

"Moony, my old friend," said Sirius gently. "I know I've been terrible. And I'm sorry. But I promise you. I promise you that everything will change."

And he drank the potion.

THE END

**Author's notes:**

"The Wizarding world seemed to have a rather disproportionate number of homosexuals." – Well, anyone who's spent a bit of time browsing through the fandom should be able to tell you that. In fact, some fics really leave me wondering why the Wizarding world hasn't sodomised itself to extinction yet.

I mean, let's face it, you have to have _some_ straight people to continue the bloodline.

Right?

Anyway, that was my twisted little piss-take on the wonderful world of trashfic. If you took any part of this fic seriously, and are offended, I refer you to my Author's Notes at the start of Chapter 1. I _did_ warn you.

If you took any part of this fic seriously, and _aren't_ offended, get help.

Everyone else – please review! (Actually, if you found this fic offensive, I also urge you to review. I find the lack of offended reviewers somewhat disappointing. I mean, if I'm going to write something this smutty, surely I should be offending _somebody_?)

Yeah, I'm just stirring cauldrons here.

Cheers!

PM


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